Castle in the Pyrenees
by Now With More Fiber
Summary: Faye, Spike, and Jet all go out drinking on Halloween. Faye has too much and says some rather interesting things later in the evening.


Halloween

**Castle in the Pyrenees  
by Now With More Fiber**

*Quick Note: This story takes place during the Halloween celebrations on Mars, which is the timeframe for the movie. So I guess this is an AU fic, since the movie plot doesn't figure in at all. Sort of a few-months-later companion to "Outside Looking In".

*****

**Mars, October 31, 2071.**

Outside the crowded, dim bar, the streets of Tharsis City were packed with costumed revelers. Jet Black was not among them. He had lost his appetite for large-scale mischief years ago.  
His appreciation for fine bourbon, however, had not faded.  
Watching the crowd ebb and flow past the windows, he sipped quietly. Aimless thoughts floated like lazy clouds through his brain. _I wonder if this place is going to close at all tonight… it's been so long since I've had honest-to-god Tennessee bourbon from Earth … cost a fortune … what is that girl dressed as? A mouse or a cat? I can't tell … _  
The bartender eyed him as he drained his short glass. "You want another?"   
Jet sighed and smiled. "My wallet says no, but my mouth says yes." He fumbled for another 1000 uron note.  
"Best in the house," the bartender said as he poured another two fingers. "I had to pull a few strings to get it. Shipments from Earth are so rare, and now… kaput. The distillery where they make this stuff got smacked by a meteor three weeks ago." He slid the glass back in front of Jet.  
"Now that's a crying shame."  
"Damn right it is." The bartender leaned in closer, grinning. "Although… I saved three bottles in my apartment. Wonder what they'll be worth in five years, eh?"  
Jet chuckled softly and took a small sip, letting the rich amber flavor linger on his tongue. 

*****

In a louder part of the city, in a louder bar, Spike Spiegel watched in mute mock-horror as Faye Valentine batted her eyes at yet another guy in yet another goofy costume, and received yet another free vodka martini. Straight up, three olives, please. Why, thank you. Oh, that's so funny. So where you from?   
His eye twitched as he stared disconsolately at the empty glass of scotch before him. The bartender was hurrying about, filling glasses for various girls of various reputations in various costumes, which flattered them to varying degrees. Most of them glared needles at Faye, who sat perched atop a barstool, resplendent in a red vinyl she-devil costume. The air around her practically shimmered; her (ample) bare skin nearly sizzled. Three goofy-looking fellows flanked her, simultaneously spouting different stories. Faye pulled the cocktail pick out of the glass and put her lips around one of the olives.  
_She's good. She's really good. I've got to at least give her that. _Spike glanced back down at his empty glass, and his temper rose a notch. He raised the glass and slammed it down atop the bar with a loud "clink".   
"Hey, barkeep! I asked you ten minutes ago…"

Faye's eyes widened, as if she'd forgotten Spike was just a few seats away. She turned toward the bartender and leaned forward, crossing her arms underneath her breasts so as to display even more cleavage. "Say, bartender… I don't suppose you'd mind giving my dear brother over there another scotch on the rocks? We just came in from Ganymede for the party, and we're a bit short on money, so would you do it for me?"  
The bartender gave her a dull look, then smiled impishly and leaned towards her ear. "You know, I hate it when chicks try to pull that act," he whispered as softly as he could over the din, "but you in that costume" - he whistled softly - "just being here, you've brought me so many tips from these dorks, I figure I might even owe you one."  
Faye and the bartender shared a sharp, knowing grin before he brought down a bottle of his finest scotch and poured a hefty amount for her "dear brother".  
Spike raised his refilled glass in a mock toast. _She's really, really good._  
Faye tipped her fourth new martini in his direction, grinned, and winked.  
_And... she's really, really drunk_. Spike sighed. _Well, whatever happens, happens._

*****

Jet stepped out of the bar and lit a cigarette underneath the awning. The street in front of his eyes was a cacophony of neon and noise. A gaggle of costumed teenage girls shoved past him, giggling and shrieking. A few feet away, a guy in a Dracula outfit clung to a telephone pole while his werewolf buddy attempted to pry him away towards the next party. Firecrackers screeched and popped. The din of shouts, singing, horns, engines, crowds, bands…   
The world blurred and swam. Jet rubbed his temple. _Shit… I'm too old for this. When did I get so old? It can't be past midnight. _His eyelids felt heavy, and his brain hummed from the whiskey. Sighing heavily, he resigned himself to feeling very out of place. _I guess it's time for this old man to go home and sleep it off._ He yawned so wide and long that his jaw nearly popped.

*****

"Wuh?" Faye turned towards ... whoever had tapped her shoulder. In the neon-pierced darkness, her eyes caught a blur of fuzzy moss-green hair. "Aww, you came back f'r me!" She grinned broadly.  
"C'mon, let's get out of here," Spike said, gesturing towards the door with his thumb. "We're gonna miss the best part of the whole party."   
She blinked twice, then nodded, her head bobbing back and forth. "Good idea. 'S'place's getting boring anyhow." Hopping up from her barstool with surprising agility, she took a couple of careful steps to the door.   
"Thanks again," called the bartender. She blew him a kiss.  
"Man, you're totally _gone_," Spike muttered, trying not to laugh.  
"No'm not," she replied indignantly, walking unsteadily ahead of him on high stiletto heels... wondering why there were two sidewalks shifting in front of her. "Oh, damn...wait..." Her left heel wobbled, and she began to slip sideways. Spike reached out and took her arm, just managing to break her fall. The pair landed on the pavement with a dull THUD.  
"Owwww, dammit...." Faye squinted and rubbed the side of her thigh.   
Spike hefted her back up to her feet, none too steady himself.   
Suddenly, the streets rang with the sound of bells and gongs. "It's midnight," he said with a smile.   
"So?" Faye blinked.   
Before he could answer, her eyes were dazzled by a burst and shower of silver and magenta sparks. Overhead, enormous fireworks began blossoming in rapid succession, filling the sky with color and smoke.  
Her mouth fell open as she stared upwards.   
"You look like a little kid," Spike said.  
"I... I love fireworks. Aren't they pretty?"   
"Yeah," he answered, "though I gotta admit, I like the smell of the gunpowder smoke the best."  
She giggled. "You would." Spike smiled with her.  
Faye swayed on her feet. Spike lit a cigarette. She begged one off him. The scotch had made him charitable, so they smoked together on the sidewalk, gazing up towards the blazing Martian sky.  
"They look like... umbrellas 'r flowers... I can' decide..." Faye said blearily, leaning against a streetlamp.  
"Dandelions on fire," Spike stated with a grin.  
She laughed childishly, and swayed back and forth. He steadied her again. Her head tipped forward, then lolled to her side.   
"Geez, Faye... how much did you have, anyway?"  
"Didn' keep count." A brilliant gold arc burst overhead. She jerked her head upwards to see, and nearly fell.  
Spike grimaced. "You better get back on the Bebop and go to bed."  
"Sounds good," she mumbled, and began to totter away.  
Spike put his hand to his forehead in exasperation. "You're going the wrong way."   
Faye turned around and started wobbling back towards him. He sighed. _The crap I gotta do... _ "Come on." He turned his back to her and hunched down. She blinked, then smiled lazily.   
"Hey... thanks..." She climbed onto his back. Her body was surprisingly light, although the sharp points and heels of her boots and the slick vinyl of her costume weren't exactly pleasant to the touch. She rested her head sideways on his shoulder, facing off to his left.   
Once they were off the main street, the crowd thinned considerably. Spike carried her another block, then set her gently down to hail a passing taxi. Faye slumped down into an awkward sitting position on the sidewalk. She'd just begun to nod off when Spike picked her up by her shoulders and guided her into the back seat of the cab.  
"Aren' you gonna come back too?" she asked, puzzled.  
"I'll be back later. I wanna see the rest of the show."  
"'Well have fun, stranger...." The taxi's door fell shut between them.  


*****

Jet had just drifted into an easy sleep on the long yellow couch inside the Bebop, when Faye came stumbling through the main hatch into the soft dimness of the livingroom.  
"Oooops." Her eyes widened in exaggerated embarrassment when she saw she'd woken him.  
"Welcome back," he grumbled, turning over on the couch to face her. _Damn. Woken up by Faye Valentine in that tight red outfit. Am I still dreaming?_   
He smiled drily. "Nice costume." Surprised at the other cowboy's absence, he asked, "Where's Spike? I thought he was with you."  
She didn't detect the tiny prickle in his question. "Thanks. Spike says he's coming in... later... whenever that is... so..." Slumping down onto the seat opposite him, she began unlacing the front of her costume. "...so... g'night..." In the low light, her fair skin seemed luminous, her full breasts nearly spilling out of her top.  
Blood rushed to Jet's face. "Uhh..."  
Faye blinked quizzically, her expression clueless; unguarded.   
"..Maybe you want to do that in another room." _Unless you *meant* to ...? _  
She looked down at her corset as if surprised to find it half-undone. "Oh... oh yeah, thanks. Heh." She pushed herself upright and slowly stood. Running a hand through her hair, she began wavering towards the side hatch that led into the hall.  
Jet sat up on the couch and watched her halting progress across the room. Faye was a delicious sight in her Halloween costume, but maybe...

She yelped as her heel gave way again. The thin stiletto snapped underneath her foot and she tumbled to the floor. Jet sprang up from the couch and rushed to her.   
"Hey!" He grabbed her shoulders. "You okay there?"  
Faye pouted. "Awww, my shoe..."  
"Forget the shoe. Are you hurt?"  
She blinked, her eyes wide and glistening. "No, I'm fine." She reached forward slowly, opening the long zipper that ran through red vinyl from ankle to mid-thigh. Pulling the thigh-high boot halfway off, she briefly inspected the broken heel, sighed, then removed it and dropped it to the floor. "So much for that..." She unzipped and slid her long leg out of the other boot, and spent a brief moment gazing mournfully at the pair. "Talk about a buzzkill. And those were expensive, too."  
Jet sighed. "Come on, I think you'd better get to bed." He brought one arm underneath the crook of her knees, one around her back under her arms, and lifted her up. _I'm just doing this for her safety_... _Right?_  
"Hey, carried up like Snow White! Or would that be Sleeping Beauty?" Faye laughed as if at a private joke, then suddenly nuzzled against his neck. "Are you going to take me to bed?" she teased, her voice husky and warm.  
"I didn't mean like that," Jet's jaw clenched even as his face flushed. He ducked down as he carried her through the doorway. "I'll be a perfect gentleman."  
His heart caught in his throat as Faye slipped an arm around his neck, slowly caressing the back of his head and the underside of his jaw with her fingertips.   
"But what if I don't _want_ you to be a perfect gentleman?"

He stopped in his tracks. Faye's eyes locked onto his, smoky emerald storms drawing him in ... _No. She's just drunk. You're a fool to even hope..._  
"Then that's too bad," he answered, averting his gaze. _Jet Black, you damned idiot._  
"Awww," she pouted, then closed her eyes peacefully. "Jet, you're so dependable," she purred, resting her head against his broad chest. The smile on her face was quiet but unashamed.   
He winced. "Don't say that, I hate that word."  
"You know... you've got reeeally blue eyes..." She reached up again and gently touched his cheek.  
"You... you should go to sleep." He laid her softly onto the narrow bed in the cabin, reluctantly drawing his arms out from underneath her warm, supple body. Maybe he let his hands slide a bit too slowly around her calves and back. Maybe. He turned away and started towards the door.  
Faye shifted atop the sheets and sighed. "Say… you know that old painting…" she began, then shut her eyes.  
He paused. "Painting?"   
"That castle one..._ Castle in the Pyrenees_."  
"Where the heck did you learn about something like that?" Jet stared at her, puzzled, over his shoulder.  
"I don't remem-- ... But see, there's this boulder... with this little castle carved in the top of it... all floating up above the ocean..." She yawned. "It's impossible... but it's kind of impossible like you are - this strong rock in midair... that holds up this entire fairytale castle... and... and you..." she yawned again.  
"And I what?"  
Faye answered with a soft snore.  


*****

She woke the next morning with a searing headache and a parched mouth. Painfully lifting her head, she found on the nightstand beside her a large glass of cool water, and a blurry low-resolution printout of Rene Magritte's ___Castle in the Pyrenees_, with the words _"No resemblance whatsoever!!"_ dashed across it in black marker.

Her brow furrowed in confusion even as she eagerly drank the water.

**  
THE END**

**Notes from the whole grain author:**  
I really had no idea what to name this fic. It was originally called "Dandelions on Fire" after Spike's line, but this fic isn't about Spike at all... so...  


Anyway, you're almost there, Jet! Just bear with me a little while longer... these things take time, you know!   
Hey, stop looking at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes! 


End file.
